Salad Fingers tightened his grip on Kennith's shirt, covered in the dirt that had burried him not too long ago.

"He's not dead," Salad muttered to himself. "He promised he'd return home from the war. He's not dead, because he promised. Promised not to leave me alone."

It had been five years since Salad Fingers and his siblings had started to live in the little cabin a mile out of town. Three years since their sister, Bordois, died of pneumonia. Eight months since Kennith had been called away to fight in the war.

"He promised, so he's not dead...he just came back on Shore Leave, yes...that's what happened. And now...now he must go back to fight in the Great War. Oh, brave little Kennith..."

Salad pushed his brother's corpse back into the hole and covered him once again with sand.

"He will come by to visit soon as he can...Next Shore Leave."

He stood, brushing the sand from his clothes and heading back into the house. Since Kennith wasn't dead, that meant Bordois wasn't dead either, and Bordice was waiting for him...